


You Could Have It All

by taffetaDirigible



Category: Game Grumps
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Idol Dan, M/M, Masturbation, all aboard the sad train choo choo
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-08
Updated: 2015-12-14
Packaged: 2018-05-05 15:39:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5380679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taffetaDirigible/pseuds/taffetaDirigible
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An AU where Game Grumps never happened, Arin and Ross are both supporting themselves with animation, and for some reason Dan gets it into his head to apply to be on a Japanese reality competition show where the winner gets an idol contract. And wins.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

" _You're not gonna believe this shit_."

Arin's gaze didn't move from his screen, his eyes locked on what he was drawing.

"What shit?"

This was normal. Ross was always telling him about some new anime or artist or video-game or animation or song or _something_ and didn't mind that Arin would stare straight forward without acknowledging him. He was an artist too, he understood. Their Skype calls had been a staple of both their lives for so long now that it was all second nature. One or both would be drawing and they'd talk like they were in the room and not half a world apart, sometimes excitedly and sometimes littered with long silences.

" _You know that Idol reality show I was telling you about?_ "

"Probably, you fucking weeb. What about it?"

" _Whatever, you're fucking weeby as shit, asshole!_ "

Arin's eyes stayed focused on the curved line he was manipulating with his stylus, but he smirked.

"So what about your stupid show?"

Ross's breath huffed and Arin didn't need to look up from his work to see that his friend was scowling.

" _Well now I don't even want to tell you_."

" _Jesus_ you're being such a tool, just fucking tell me whatever thing you were gonna for Pete's sake."

There was a beat of silence as Ross made his annoyance palpable, but Arin was arguably one of the most stubborn people alive and Ross knew that, knew that he'd wait _hours_ before saying anything else and muttered unintelligible nonsense under his breath before moving forward with the conversation.

" _Anyways_ ," he overemphasized, and Arin could just tell he was rolling his eyes. " _The finale was last night and you need to check out the guy who won. I didn't think he stood a chance but I guess the teenaged girls of Japan thought otherwise, it was the highest rated episode of any season_."

"Wait, a guy won?"

Arin's eyebrow arched, his mind filling quickly and suddenly with images of attractive young Japanese men.

" _Yeah, this season was co-ed. I thought for fucking sure the cute short-haired girl was gonna win or like maybe the one with the really big boobs_."

Arin laughed. "Do you not know their names?" he asked in a patronizing tone.

Again, Ross bristled audibly. " _Well yeah you chode but you don't so what's the point? Anyways, the fucking American dude won and the internet is basically exploding right now_."

"An American guy won a Japanese Idol reality show contest?"

" _Yeah man, he wasn’t the only non-Japanese contestant either, I mean, most were but anyways, now he's got like a guaranteed model and record contract deal or something_."

Arin snorted, laughing softly under his breath for a moment or two, his stylus still in his hand. "That's fucking stupid."

***

Hours later, after their call had ended and Arin had been staring at his current project for so long that he was starting to hate it, he found himself aimlessly clicking around the internet, only then remembering the reality show Ross had mentioned.

He didn't know the name of it but he knew enough to search and sure enough, there was only one recent Japanese competition show won by an American guy for an Idol contract.

Arin frowned at the way his immediate reaction was to blush. Ross knew him too well.

Ross was an asshole.

The article he found linked to the guy's public Instagram account. He clicked onto it.

Arin's eyes narrowed as he looked away from his screen, his blush deeper.

The guy was obnoxiously attractive.

His gut tightened and rolled and his arms and shoulders itched with paranoia, expecting at any moment for someone to sneak up behind him and ask what he was doing even though he was alone in his apartment.

Steeling himself against the embarrassment, Arin was able to convince himself to take another look.

His name was Danny.

Or ★DANNY★, rather, according to his social media presence.

And he was beautiful.

Arin was still jaded and cynical about the idea of a reality show that gave away a contract as a prize, negative thoughts flowing freely through his subconscious about how it was all probably too good to be true and no agency could guarantee success or a lasting career and all these show winners were likely abandoned by the fickle, heartless industry yet bound by bureaucratic red-tape from recording or modeling with other companies- and yet-

Arin scrolled slowly through the images on Danny's Instagram, absently admiring his fashion choices. It was a fascinating blend of culture clashes; J-rock had always been so heavily influenced by Western styles of the past and it was a little strange to see an American guy trying to pull off the look of a Japanese rockstar who was trying to be a British punk-rocker.

It worked somehow.

Arin almost had to look away again when he reached a particular picture featuring Dan grinning like the devil himself, one thumb tucked into the waist of his already low-riding black jeans, pulling them down suggestively, his other hand splayed across his stomach with spread-wide fingers, pushing up a dark blue faded t-shirt with a Soundgarden album cover printed on it, a leather jacket half-way shrugged down his long arms.

His hair was wild, an unruly mass of curls that had probably been meticulously styled for the photoshoot but gave the impression he'd just rolled out of bed, tastefully disheveled.

Whether from sleeping or fucking was up to the observer.

It was all intentional, staged and planned and crafted and Arin hated lab-made commercial bullshit but it was sucking him in all the same, his thoughts wandering off their curmudgeonly path and wondering what it would be like to twist his fingers into that hair, feel that sultry, sinful gaze focused entirely on him-

The sound effect played for a text message coming in over Skype and Arin almost screamed, startled, clenching his jaw in annoyance.

It was a message from Ross.

 

_rubberninja: you check that dude out yet?_

 

Arin frowned.

 

_egofaptor: what dude?_

_rubberninja: the idol guy, come on_

_egofaptor: are you in love with his guy or something?_

_rubberninja: fuck off, you're the gay one_

_egofaptor: i'm not gay_

_rubberninja: fine bi or whatever. you like dick_

_egofaptor: you don't have to like fucking match-make for me dude_

_rubberninja: so have you checked him out?_

_egofaptor: yeah_

_rubberninja: AND???_

 

Arin scowled at his screen before he remembered it wasn't a video call and Ross couldn't see his done-with-him facial expression.

 

_egofaptor: i mean he's alright i guess_

_rubberninja: oh whatever. if you watched the show you'd be all over this guy_

_egofaptor: too bad i don't, those types of shows are stupid_

_rubberninja: you're stupid_

_egofaptor: genius comeback. i'm going to bed, it's late as balls_

_rubberninja: yeah right you're gonna go jerk off to that guy_

_egofaptor: fuck you. goodnight. or whatever the hell time it is in australia_

 

Arin didn't wait for a reply before shutting out of Skype.

Danny's Instagram was still open on his screen.

He noticed then that several of the thumbnails he'd scrolled by were videos.

Arin double-checked that Skype was completely closed. The last thing he needed was Ross interrupting him again.

He tried to clear his mind and remain neutral as he clicked the arrow to play.

But nothing could stop the heat that curled in his chest as the still image of Dan smiling came to life, hearing his melodious laugh for the first time, warm and genuine.

Any doubt that Arin might have had about this guy's chance of actually succeeding in the Idol industry melted away. He was a natural, his charisma bleeding through the screen across the airwaves, infecting all who encountered it with his smile.

Arin included, his expression softening, letting the short video loop. 

***

It took another few weeks before Arin was able to admit to Ross that he was right.

Ross had been relentless, bringing it up damn near every day, every time they talked while working on their art, every time they ended a conversation. Or started one.

" _Come on man, I saw that you followed him on Instragram_."

"Why are you stalking me?"

" _Public information, bro_."

Then one day they'd been on a call when Ross had the idea to start spamming pictures of Danny in the text window and Arin had actually blushed and Ross had laughed loudly and manically, pointing at Arin and yelling " _I fucking knew it!_ "

And god, Arin really did want to be able to talk about it and he caved and spilled his guts to an obnoxiously delighted Ross, who listened with his hands clasped happily in front of his face.

Arin told him about watching all the videos on his Instragram and then branching out from there, watching clips from the show on YouTube, anything he could find, which wasn't much.

He'd sheepishly asked Ross to tell him more.

Ross was all too happy to lord the information over him, dealing it out in choice morsels and watching Arin begrudgingly ask for additional details.

Ross told him that Danny was from New Jersey. That he was a musician and had tried to launch his career with multiple bands in America but nothing was panning out. That he'd originally entered the contest as a joke and hadn't expected the show to pick him for a contestant. How he'd quickly become a crowd favorite after he started to take the show seriously. How he'd learned Japanese over the course of six months of filming and now spoke it better than Arin, who'd been learning in sporadic chunks for years, dating back to his anime-watching high school days.

"What else?"

" _I dunno man, that's pretty much all anyone knows. Now that the show's over he's probably doing appearances and shit in Japan. I like the show, I'm not actually into the Idol scene._ "

"I mean, I'm not either."

" _Not until now anyways_ ," Ross smirked.

"You don't get to make fun of me for something that _you_ introduced me to."

Ross just shrugged, that shit-eating grin still present.

***

It was another week or so until Arin unbent enough to allow him to fantasize.

He'd never been a fan of the whole Idol thing. Mostly because he'd seen girls getting stereotyped and dehumanized, something that had always pissed him off as an artist and a writer. And a human being. He'd always looked down from his high horse on the saps who bought into an industry built around false hopes, the manufactured fantasy of a relationship with someone who wasn't even allowed to be themselves, not truly.

So why was he laying awake at night thinking about holding Danny's hand, sitting next to him, their knees brushing, what it would be like to hear him laugh and smile at something he'd said-

It was stupid. It was so stupid and he hated the way he'd wake up sometimes still in the midst of a dream, how he'd reach out for the fading false realities, wanting to stay in his perfect little world he'd conjured up for himself full of warm smiles and brown eyes.

He snapped awake in a cold sweat.

His heart was racing.

He couldn't fully remember everything that had been happening in his dream but he was panting and he was painfully hard and it wasn’t hard to put together.

Arin whimpered in surrender as his hand reached into his pajama pants.

It was so easy to bring the scene back, Danny's breath against his neck, arms around him, moaning into the silence of his empty apartment as he rolled his hips against his fist, feeling safe enough in the darkness to let his imagination stretch its legs. His other hand drifted up the front of his shirt but in his mind it was Danny's, his long fingers shoving the fabric up under his armpits, callused fingertips rolling and twisting his nipple, making him whine and squirm.

It didn't take long for him to get himself close, his body already keyed up from his dream, from the thoughts and desires he'd been denying himself and was finally exploring.

He thought about Danny's voice, low in his ear, that husky chuckling noise he made that rang like music and made his dick twitch.

Arin struggled to shoves his pants down his thighs without breaking his rhythm, his neck arched hard to the side, indulging himself with Danny's name on his lips as he shuddered hard.

The warmth remained but faded steadily as he lay in the hollow afterglow, buzzing from the release of pleasure chemicals through his body but also resenting the fleeting nature of the fantasy, the dwindling intensity that had powered him through his shame at his attraction to a professional heartbreaker.

But he was too tired to dwell now, sated and boneless, letting his cynicism be set aside in the darkness, his arms pulling one of his pillows tight against him as he drifted off to sleep, imagining long arms draped lazily around him.

 _Fuckin' Ross_.


	2. Chapter 2

Time went on, like it always did. Arin's crush on Danny became just another part of his life, not a huge part but ever-present, lingering in the background and flavoring small little day to day experiences: a song would play that he'd heard Danny say that he liked and suddenly it would work it's way into Arin's playlists. His aimless and distracted trips through Wikipedia that he often found himself on while researching for a story he was writing would steer in new directions and slowly he was familiarizing himself with things Danny talked about in interviews.

The histories of bands he liked. Sports teams. Books he'd read. Places he'd been.

This was the name of the game in the Idol industry. It was all out there within easy reach, tantalizing and personal and there for the taking.

Arin justified it to himself that Danny was an interesting person, that he'd be interesting even if he wasn't famous, that this was all stuff that appealed to him and he'd want to know about anyway.

He was just broadening his interests.

Another night, another call and his mind was wandering as he worked.

"Shit dude, there's a rumor Neil Peart is retiring."

" _What?_ "

"I know, it's crazy."

" _No man, who the fuck are you talking about?_ "

"Neil Peart, the drummer from Rush."

Arin's eyes left his art to glance at the window with Ross's stupid face in it. As stupid as predicted, Ross was smirking.

"What?"

" _Since when are you into Rush?_ "

"I dunno, it's a big deal! It's on the front page of Reddit and shit. They've like, never stopped touring, they toured last year or whatever. That's hardcore for a bunch of guys their age."

" _Danny likes Rush. It's like. A thing of his. He talked about it a bunch on the show._ "

Arin's eyes shot back to his drawing, doubling down on his focus. "So do fucking millions of people. I just fucking said they're still touring, how many bands around that long can say that?"

Ross's expression didn't change.

***

Almost half a year after that initial conversation, Danny made headlines in America.

Not huge headlines, but he was a trending hashtag on Facebook and it made Arin nearly spit his drink when he saw the name in such an unexpected place. Danny had a song out in Japan and the music video was funny enough and the song catchy enough that people were paying attention to it outside of the Idol fandom.

Arin hadn't watched it yet. He'd known about it for a while and cherished that little fact with bitter pride. Even among Danny's fans, Arin had probably been one of the first to hear the news. He followed his internet presence intently. And it embarrassed him. The majority of Danny's fans were girls. _Young_ girls. He felt like an intruder. The kind of guy he'd always hated who perverted other people's fun.

And he was worried he wouldn't like it.

And he was worried that he would.

Worried it would be cheesy, too silly, that it would taint his fantasy. Worried it would be good and catchy and he'd lose himself and hum it under his breath in public. Worried it would let him down. Worried it would send him crashing further into his miasma of longing.

Needless, stupid, debilitating worry.

But when he saw Danny's name on his bland, boring Facebook feed amongst posts from his mom's friends and old high school classmates whose lives were now foreign to him it filled him with a slow, warm pride. He knew how big of a deal it was for an international act to catch attention in the States and he could only imagine how happy Danny must be, knowing his story.

With a deep breath that melded into a laugh at how ridiculous he was being, he decided it was finally time to listen to the song.

Not even half a minute in and Arin couldn't believe he'd waited as long as he had.

It was everything he'd feared it would be. Campy. Catchy. Commercial. Dan was simultaneously hilarious and beautiful in the video. References he'd seen on forums and in screen names suddenly made sense.

For the millionth time, Arin leaned forward onto his elbows, his face in his hands, both hating and loving how much he was into this guy that he'd never met.

It was so easy for him to build Danny up to be this larger than life mythical creature. He continuously had to remind himself that he was just a guy but it rarely worked. His presence was so overwhelming, so all-consuming.

Arin forced himself to breathe slowly, groaning into his palms.

***

" _Did you fucking see?_ "

Arin didn't need to ask what Ross was talking about but played dumb anyway.

"See what?"

Danny had done an interview via satellite with a late night talk show host. He wasn't the main guest and it had mostly picked fun at the Idol industry but yes, of _course_ Arin had fucking seen it he wasn't a fucking scrub level fan but there was just something about it all that had him reluctant to show his excitement and dedication to Ross, regarding anything with Danny.

" _Danny said he was single! On American television!_ "

Oh.

"Oh. Yeah."

Arin forced his face to remain the same as he dealt with the swirling sensations of excitement and annoyance.

" _Jesus, I thought you'd be more excited about it._ "

Arin sighed. "It doesn't mean anything, man. He's not allowed to date, not even privately, no idol is. It's part of their contract. Their company wants the fans to think they have a chance. And they want complete control over their public face."

It was part of what had always bothered Arin about the Idol industry, long before Danny had come along. It didn't seem fair. And there was a contradiction in the fans knowing the Idols were contractually obligated to remain single and still pining anyways, hoping they'd be the one. The exception. Arin grit his teeth as he did his usual mental gymnastics to convince himself that he wasn’t one of them.

" _Aw, that's lame._ "

Arin frowned. It was.

"Yeah. I mean, he knew what he was signing up for, I guess."

***

"Enjoying the view?"

Danny turned his head, looking back over his shoulder and into the hotel room at his best friend and manager. It was a nice cool night and he loved feeling the wind in his hair, smelling the crisp, clean air. The room was high enough up that the noises of the busy streets below were practically nonexistent. His hands released their grip from the railing of the room's balcony, turning and leaning his back against it.

"And the quiet." Effortlessly, Danny lifted himself up onto the railing, kicking his long legs with deceptive innocence.

"Get down from there you idiot, you know how much I hate it when you do that. I'm responsible for your clumsy ass and I don't even want to think what the label would do to me if you fell off a building."

Danny rolled his eyes but obliged, sliding back down. "Good to know your first concern is your own ass, Brian." He smirked as he walked forward back into the room, swishing his hips subconsciously as he walked, shutting the sliding glass door behind him.

Brian scowled in response. "Don't be stupid, you know I'd be upset if you died. But I'd also be the one to deal with your mess, as usual."

Danny's smile disappeared from his face. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Don't give me that look. You know damn well I'm talking about. That reporter from last week? The girl at the bar a few days ago?"

"What about them? Nothing happened."

Brian rose up from his chair, irritation written plainly across his face. "Nothing happened because I'm fucking amazing at my job, _Dan_. I’m the one who did damage control and made sure the bartender deleted that picture he took of you talking to that girl. It doesn't matter if you're fucking them or not, everyone on the goddamn planet has a camera on their pocket these days and any pictures of you getting flirty with someone could cost you _and me_ our fucking jobs."

Anger flared on Danny's face but immediately faded. He sat down hard on the room's over sized bed with a dull thud.

"So what, I can't even _talk_ to people?" His voice was quiet, looking up at Brian with an expression that broke his manager's heart.

It had been a whirlwind of a year for both of them. As much as they would have liked to believe otherwise, neither of them had known what they were getting themselves into. Brian had gone from writing songs about dicks with Dan the happy-go-lucky pothead on the side of his teaching gig to… this. Ninja Sex Party, their silly comedy band had been well received at open-mic nights in New York City but it hadn't paid, well, anything at all. And while Brian was well on his way to establishing himself in a sustainable career, Danny had been working in coffee shops and record stores and was so, so desperate for anything that would earn him some financial stability.

That was why when Dan had showed up to their band practice smiling and practically bouncing in place, talking faster than Brian could keep up with about a reality tv show, how the audition process would make a great video for their YouTube channel, how if he managed to get on the first episode as a joke they would still get paid, how if nothing else it would be a great networking opportunity- Brian hadn't had the heart to object. It was a funny idea. And they had a few hundred fans online, they could probably cause enough of a stir on Twitter to get the show's attention.

So they'd made Danny's audition tape in typical NSP fashion. It was ridiculous and they'd laughed so hard together watching it once the editing was done, sides in stitches and breath lost. It was awful. It was perfect.

And despite what either of them expected, someone in Japan agreed.

It had all happened so fast, then. Brian got the e-mail, having already decided that if anything was going to get done he'd need to be in a management role. Dan was terrible about checking his messages and clueless when it came to communicating professionally. There was a plane ticket waiting for Dan. They'd had to drain their savings for Brian’s.

Both of them threw themselves into studying the language. Brian picked it up faster when it came to actually conversation but Dan's singing voice came quickly and naturally. All of his warm-ups became Japanese rock and pop and more than once Brian had caught him practicing dance moves in front of a mirror when he thought no one was looking.

Brian quietly suspected that that was what had caused the change. The shift in the plan when he saw Dan slowly start to take the competition seriously after he made it past the first episode. Suddenly it wasn't about losing on purpose for a funny series of videos wherein Danny Sexbang the character tried and failed to become a Japanese pop idol. Brian had watched, fascinated, as the real Dan started to come through on the show whenever they'd interview him, his tone shifting from the ridiculous character to a genuine and determined performer. Watched as he'd put in extra hours with the dancing and vocal coaches, how he was constantly practicing, taking better care of himself, drinking less and sleeping more.

Dan had always been ambitious in everything he'd done.

And he'd known, had been reminded time and again by both Brian and the agency that ran the contest that signing an Idol contract meant a willingness to live the lifestyle constantly. He'd always waved the concern away, insisting it was fine, that he doubted he'd have time to date anyway.

Maybe he hadn't exactly realized the agreement extended as far as it did. To hookups. To casual dates. To being seen in public with someone that hadn't been pre-approved by the label as suitable and good for his image. And by extension theirs.

Dan had been a late-bloomer and even after entering the world or sex and dating hadn't been remarkably successful, so naturally he hadn't been able to fathom what it would be like to suddenly be at the epicenter of a maelstrom of romantic and sexual attention and offers- and unable to act on any of it.

Brian shook himself back to the present and looked forlornly at his friend's miserable expression. Dan was usually so happy and smiley, it was that much harder to see him upset.

"You can talk to people," Brian said slowly, sitting back down in his chair, his anger leaving him. It had been a long week for both of them and it wasn't surprising that they were both on edge.

"Cause that's really all it was," Dan said quietly. "Do you really think I'd throw away everything we've worked for over a pretty girl?"

Brian's eyes closed and he pinched at the bridge of his nose. "Not on purpose, no. But Dan- you don't- you don't understand how you look when you interact with people. Especially people who would probably do anything for a chance at you."

Dan rolled his eyes and made a rude noise. "I'm not doing it on purpose-"

" _I_ know that, believe me, but the rest of the world doesn't. You're a fucking charismatic bastard and people fall in love with you on a daily basis. It's why you won that stupid contest and it's why we're both still here in Japan making more money that we ever thought we would doing this dumb shit."

Dan huffed out a breath and uncoiled slightly from his ball of unhappiness, his lips still fixed in a frown. "I'm just lonely. I miss my friends. And my family."

"You can call them whenever you want," Brian offered uselessly. He already knew for a fact that Dan did, whenever possible.

"If I'd gotten signed like a regular musician this wouldn't be an issue," Dan muttered, a point he brought up bitterly more and more these days.

"Which wouldn't have happened in the first place, you're here because of the show," Brian replied, like he always did. "This was your idea, Dan. And it was a fucking good idea, it worked. Isn't this better than serving coffee to hipsters?"

"Most of the time, yeah."

With an emphatic groan, Brian got to his feet and walked the short distance to the sliding glass door to the balcony, pushing it open for dramatic effect.

"Would you fucking look out there? We're in fucking Japan! Everyone loves you here, more often than not you get to sleep in, there's more sushi than you'll ever be able to eat and you _know_ this shit is not going to last forever. So you don't get to get your dick wet for a while. How often were you even getting laid anyways? Do you really wanna look back years from now and regret cutting this chapter of your life short prematurely?"

None of the argument was fair and Brian knew it but he had to say something and knew Dan would reluctantly agree, which he did.

"You're right, Brian," Dan sighed, tired and defeated and out of energy after his busy week of promoting his new song and riding high on his temporary international success. "I'm just tired, I guess. I'm probably gonna call it a night."

Brian nodded and stood, feeling guilty as always but satisfied that their jobs were safe for another day. He knew that he pushed Dan hard, but it was why Dan had asked him to stay after the show was over, declining the offer of the agency to assign him a manager with experience in the Idol industry. It had taken a lot of convincing, and it meant that Brian had to be a hardass more often than he wanted to, but so far it was had worked for them and pleased the corporate powers at be who held Danny's career in the balance. And it meant that Dan had at least one person he could trust, who'd known him before his success, who deep down had his best interest at heart.

"Yeah, me too. Get some rest, okay?"

Dan nodded as Brian took his leave to the adjoining room, shutting the door behind him to give Dan his privacy. 

As annoyed as he'd been at Brian, it still sort of stung to be alone.

With a loud sigh, he flopped back onto the hotel room bed, reaching into his pocket for his phone, pulling it out and checking his messages.

As usual, there were many. Notifications that people liked his pictures. His tweets.

All strangers.

Strangers who loved him, but strangers.

There was a time when he'd wanted this more than anything in the entire world, and now that he had it, was living his dream, something still seemed- off.

"This is what you wanted," he mumbled aloud to himself. "Right?"

He always felt so guilty when the ennui settled in but there was no changing it. 

'Be careful what you wish for' had never felt more real.


End file.
